


The Frilly Frisky Panties Of Courage

by HyphenL



Series: Soft Blue, Deep Red [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: AlmostShy!Hannibal, Angst, Fluff, Hannigram - Freeform, Humour, M/M, frilly panties, no crack (really)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyphenL/pseuds/HyphenL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has a thing for Hannibal, but doesn't dare to act on it. Until the day he notices Hannibal is wearing very unlikely panties, which leads them to talk about courage... and to a way for him to find his own.</p><p>Betaed by Toft (also on AO3).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Frilly Frisky Panties Of... Hannibal?

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to thank Toft who recently offered to beta for me… and those of you who have already tumbled on one of my mistakes might want to thank her too!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During one of his therapy sessions, Will notices the intimidating Dr. Hannibal Lecter is wearing what looks like very frilly panties.

  


At first, Will had trouble going through his sessions with Hannibal because he didn't like the man. He didn't like the idea of anyone rummaging in his mind, less alone one of Jack's _pets_.

Then he figured the guy wasn't that bad after all.

Then he noticed “not that bad” was bleeding into “quite doable” in his mind.

That same mind Hannibal was trying to get into.

 _You can see why we have a problem here_ , Graham thought while trying to concentrate on talking to his therapist rather than staring at him.

“Will. Will?” Hannibal was doing that thing with his head when he hung it out a little while lowering it to look at Will from underneath. Will found it infuriating how he'd picked up on every little everything of his. Like the way Hannibal's eyes creased in a silent smile when he talked to him specifically. It made his chest all kinds of fuzzy.

At some point, he'd considered asking him out. He'd actually thought about offering to go for a cup of coffee, or to some fancy restaurant. He'd even bought a fine bottle of whisky for the occasion, thinking they could start their therapy session with a nice chat, a couple of sips and, eventually, work that up to a nice place for a dandy meal.

But since that day, and each and every time he had talked himself into doing it, the mere weight of Hannibal's presence ended up crushing up his resolve.

The man was flawless. A perfect, pure, cold facade of control, grace and precision; a chiselled figure Will didn't dare to face. He told himself everyone's got a weak spot, and that Hannibal was no exception to that rule, but it didn't help him imagine even for one second his therapist was actually a reachable person. He seemed like a distant star, beautiful but mysterious, and most probably burning with the intensity of a thousand suns up close.

He was intimidating. Will actually shied away from the man.

So, from time to time, in-between the sessions when he'd actually consider to ask him out for a drink, Will Graham would pass the therapy session feeling both craving and powerless.

This was one of those days. He'd look at Hannibal, trying hard not to stare, talking about his life, about work –which made it easier, giving him something else to focus on– and did his best not to resent his therapist for being so in control with his life when his own looked like utter chaos.

How he wanted to ruffle that perfect hair, to mess up this ironed suit, ruin the man to finally look up at a human being and not at that smooth, perfectly collected dandy person prancing around like a pretty peacock.

Prancing might have been a tad excessive to describe Hannibal's quietly pacing the office, listening to Will's distracted babble. Though Graham would have liked that a bit, seeing his therapist showing off for him. At least a little.

But Hannibal was being infuriatingly professional.

His suave voice asked about a souvenir of Will's they were discussing, and Graham wanted no more than to push the man harshly against a wall, maybe hurting him a little, then relish in his look of surprise, and eventually, uh.

“You seem distracted. Will?”

Graham half grinned. “Yeah? Yeah, sorry. I'm a tad preoccupied lately.”

“If by 'lately' you mean 'those last few weeks'” Hannibal offered, too precisely. “Is there something you would wish to discuss?”

“Yes. _Nooo_. I'm not sure. Not with you, maybe.”

Hannibal's head slightly turned aside to give him that trademark sideways glance of his, and _Will didn't even have to look at him to know it was happening_. God, he was obsessed.

“It's... dating issues,” Will sighed, massaging his eyelids with a hand. “I'm trying to work up the courage to ask this one person out, but it's not succeeding so far.”

Hannibal stopped pacing, said nothing. That would mean he was actually interested.

That made Graham nervous, but he waited. He knew if he kept quiet long enough, Hannibal would say something that would help him go on. Well, he hoped.

“Why not?” the silky voice asked. “Does that person have issues with romantic attachments, or with you, specifically?”

“I, hum, don't know” Will answered honestly. “We never really brought it up.”

“Doing it might help you understand better this person's needs” Hannibal suggested. “As well as yours.”

Will grimaced.

“I am not you, Dr Lecter; I don't know how to bring up those things... tastefully.”

Hannibal smiled –his usual faint, amused, almost complicit smile.

“Then bring it up your way, William; after all, you are the one they would be engaging with, not a tasteful man.”

“Are you saying I'm not a tasteful man?” Graham chuckled in mock-offense. “I'd have you know my taste in people is pretty much flawless; apart from an appalling attraction to me, my dates so far have only been the best person in town.”

Hannibal seemed amused, and Graham loved it. He had put that fondness on those features. It felt like a small, sweet, and very warm victory.

“You can't know what I'm talking about” he continued teasingly; “you're pretty much taste incarnated, and you're ever so collected; I wonder how you do that. Hannibal –Doctor Lecter– do you even know what _embarrassment_ means?”

Will had gotten up, gone to his therapist and nervously picked up a pen off his desk, which he fidgeted with to get his mind off the borderline flirting aspect of their conversation.

“You can call me Hannibal” Hannibal reminded warmly –the pen slipped out of Will's hand and landed near him on the carpet. “I have felt embarrassed in my life before, although probably not as much as you seem to expect,” he added while picking up the pen, which messed with the fabric of his perfectly ironed shirt and even revealed a bit of skin.

“Oh, I'm not expecting anything from you on that aspect” Will replied with a little laugh and a shake of the head, trying not to eye too obviously at Hannibal's slightly uncovered waist. “I didn't even imagine you'd – _are those girl's panties?_ ”

He blurted it out before the visual information had properly reached his brain, eyes widened in surprise.

But they were. Frilly, delicate muslin undergarments along with what looked like the string of suspenders.

Graham's neck was on fire.

“As I am wearing them, I would say those are boy's panties” Hannibal answered teasingly, visibly unfazed by what would have been majorly world shaking for Will if he'd been in his place.

“I-I-I would have never pictured you in those kind of– not that I'd-d have pictured you in your– God no! Not that you're not... I-I mean...”

“If that is embarrassment, then I have _not_ felt it before” Hannibal said, amused.

Graham shut up, feeling on his face the burn of intense blushing.

Hannibal was straightening his shirt up nonetheless.

“If a little fabric can get you in this state, I gather that a person might do much worse” Hannibal declared.

“How can you be wearing those?!” Graham blabbered in spite of his better self. “You seem so... You're so... You... Uh.”

“I did not pick them up myself, if this is what you are wondering about” Hannibal offered, looking interested in Will's intense reaction.

“Uh. God. Don't tell me someone asked you to wear them or, or, err–”

“I would not divulge details of my partners' private life,” Hannibal pointed out. “But I can tell you that I am wearing this on my own volition.”

Graham's brain blanked out.

“You can't be wearing that,” he blurted out again after a pause. “You'd be wearing... classy boxers, or ridiculously overpriced... China silk something, which would look laughable on everyone else and oddly fitting on you, or something.”

“Is that how you see me?” Hannibal mused, still smiling in amusement. “The predictable man with a predictable taste for classical items?”

Graham stammered. “Well, I certainly didn't see _that_ coming!” he managed to pass off as a –slightly strangled– joke.

Hannibal seemed quite pleased with himself at having surprised Will. Pleased, happy, and not the least embarrassed.

“Alright” Will said. “How did you end up with these on then?” he asked. “You said someone picked them out for you.”

“A salesperson” Hannibal answered pleasantly. “I asked them for the single piece of undergarment they would never imagine me wearing and took it home with me.”

Will's mouth gaped open. Then he closed it. Then he opened it again, because he needed to speak.

“But... _why?_ ” he asked. “If you would allegedly... _not_ wear it?”

“Boundaries” Hannibal answered. “I like to test my limits, to explore my inner self in ways I might not have thought of. To stretch my comfort zone wider, and make the whole world my oyster, if you allow me the expression. Also, and even if that was accidental, seeing you react to it was quite entertaining.”

Graham couldn't help a smile. “It... it could have been anyone! I could have been... Alana, or Jack!”

The thought of Jack discovering Dr Lecter was wearing cute frisky panties got a nervous chuckle out of him.

Then he caught Hannibal daydreaming.

“You're actually considering it!” he exclaimed, both shocked and marvelled at the idea. “I wouldn't have pictured you as a prank person!”

Hannibal smiled, the point of his teeth peeping wolfishly on top of his bottom lip. “Oh but I have quite a fondness for humour, dear Will; especially practical jokes, _mises en scènes_ and irony.”

“This” Hannibal pursued in a slightly more serious tone, “might actually prove useful to you.”

“Really? How?” Graham asked a bit warily, already picturing Hannibal in nothing but frilly panties and wondering if his therapist actually gathered what the thought did to him.

“You could wear them” Hannibal said. “Or do something that you find equally embarrassing. Once you realise there is nothing to be afraid of, you will feel more in control.”

“ _I can't be wearing your panties_ ” Will coyly half murmured, elated and frankly quite aroused at the thought –having heard none of the ending of Hannibal's sentence.

“Of... course not” Hannibal answered, glancing at Will warily. “If I haven't been clear enough, I meant a piece of undergarment similar to those in taste. Not... _these_.”

Graham's stuttered, feeling like his stammering was only the first sparks of his head exploding, which he slightly hoped for.

Hannibal's hand was suddenly on his. “Will. Will! You need to calm down. We will work on your... shyness together, help you get past it. So maybe you can get down to asking out your... romantic interest, which would mean Jack would stop calling _me_ in the middle of therapy to point out how distracted you have been with work lately. Will? William!”

Will had lost it again at “working together”, because then he had pictured both of them naked but for very cute underwear, practising therapy in a way he _surely_ would have enjoyed _so much more_.


	2. The Frilly Frisky Panties Of Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will tries the “panty therapy”, puts on his courage and asks Hannibal out.

 

   
 _Itchy panties, itchy panties..._ _Guess what I'm wearing today._

* * *

Will waited for everyone to have cleared the women's underwear section of the department store to venture there. He didn't want to empathise with some pervert or worse, a sexist person, with their neatly compartmented mind and prejudice parade.

When the place emptied, he carefully checked the shelves for something he would not be caught dead in. Though between the thongs and transparent pink hearted panties, he realised women underwear were not going to work on him. Obviously he found the thongs strange and shivered at what they might do to his sensitive anatomy, but most of the time the fabric was soft, comfy, colourful, and some times humorously ridiculous. He even caught himself fantasising about wearing them, almost feeling the smooth fabric on his skin already.

Though as Hannibal had pointed out, the point was not wearing the underwear, but manipulating the image one had of oneself. So Graham picked up a very cute grey panty with a line of soft pink lace and a picture of a cartoon puppy on it. Then he took the weirdest, fluffiest, frilliest thong in the store because hey, that's what he'd come for.

When he paid for it, for some reason he felt like a thief.

 

Graham didn't have lots of mirrors. He had one, that somehow came with the house. It was as long as an arm and as wide as half of that. Will's image didn't fit entirely in; he only saw his greyish shirt and the cute puppy printed panty he'd picked up earlier.

He knew Hannibal had suggested for him to wear something he thought embarrassing, but he couldn't help himself. That underwear was reeeally nice.

He sighed and switched for the bright thong. It itched a little. But it would help his therapy more. Maybe.

As he slid on his pants, he worried that the frills would show under the fabric. Then he wiggled and realised this wouldn't be a comfortable day.

He put the cute puppy panty in his pocket. In case of emergency.

 

The day went on pretty much ordinarily.

Jack yelled, murders were committed, crime scenes analysed, and only Beverly seemed to pick on Will's wariness.

Graham felt kinda disappointed, having twisted all day in the uncomfortable piece of clothing, worried he would be discovered, for naught.

Luckily, he had an appointment with Hannibal today. Hannibal would notice.

Oh dear.

Hannibal _would_ notice.

“You alright Will?” Beverly asked. “You look awfully pale.”

“'m fine” Graham mumbled. “Just have to go to the loo.”

He switched panties in a hurry, all the while calling himself stupid and babbling about idiotic psychological exercises and equally moronic handsome therapists.

But Hannibal still noticed.

Probably the fact that the tip of Will's frilly thong was messily sticking out of his pocket gave it away.

Which would explain the odds looks he'd been given on the way to the office.

Which would explain why Beverly sent him an odd appreciative smile when he got out of the toilet and why Price mused “we have a lady lover on the team people!”, and why Jack... suddenly interrupted himself in the middle of a very serious sentence to send him a frown.

And that certainly explained why one of the FBI entry guards awkwardly tried to flirt while he usually avoided him.

“I certainly wouldn't have pictured you in this colour” Hannibal said when his eyes landed on the string of fabric sticking out of Will's pocket. “Although I believe 'putting the garment in your pocket' is not exactly the same as 'putting the garment on'. Have you had a good day?”.

Collected, controlled, courteous.

Typical.

“I thought you'd be a little more... intrigued.”

“I am not the kind of person to fuss over a little fabric” Hannibal answered with a charming smile. “I am more interested in the person who wears it.”

“Bl-bl” Will literally answered, swallowed by the deepness of the maroon eyes. Was there a pinpoint of red there?

“I beg your pardon?” Hannibal asked, a subtle look of surprise on his face.

Graham bit his tongue. “I-I meant...” he babbled, lost in the handsomeness that was his therapist. “I, err...”

Hannibal gave him his Hannibal-branded knowing side glance and Graham lost it.

He simply seized the man's head in-between hands and kissed the words out of him. He also swallowed a few hums, or possibly exclamations or surprise. Which tasted good.

Once he was done with the kiss, he dared to look at Hannibal.

Dishevelled. Yum.

Stupefied. Double yum.

He sighed and licked a bit of saliva off his own lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Okay” he said. “Maybe I'm not wearing the right panties, but I'd still like you to go out with me.”

Hannibal's mouth gaped slightly open then closed like a carp's, so Will used the opportunity to kiss him again. Minty fresh. Deliciously delicious.

Then he felt Hannibal's arms on his shoulders, gently pushing him away. Which was bad.

“Just give me a minute there” he mumbled in the softness of the other man's lips, trying not to let them slip away.

“William” Hannibal said, and the firm dryness of this single word sufficed to bring Will back to Earth. Both feet planted in front of a quite crumpled therapist.

“Usually one answers: yes William, I would like very much to accompany you outside for a pleasurable moment of fun that will not be awkward at all, what with your fantastic social skills and all,” Will muttered, avoiding Hannibal's eyes.

Hannibal looked at Will with what could only be concern.

“Don't give me that look, I know that look, I don't like that look” Graham cringed, pulling away. “It's the 'I don't want to hurt you but I'm still going to' look. I hate that.”

“I am your therapist, Will” Hannibal answered gently.

“Not technically, you aren't” Graham retorted bitterly.

“And, to be frank, I had never thought about you that way.”

“Well at least you're being honest.” Graham sighed. “I should be going.”

Hannibal's hands pressed gently on his shoulders. “William, please.”

“No. No 'please'. I'm... I went through that with Alana already, I'm not thrilled at the idea of going through it again. The 'you're unstable' thing.”

“For someone who doesn't like therapists, you have a surprising record of pursuing them.”

“That's not funny, Hannibal, and you know it.”

“It's a little funny,” Lecter smiled –his stupid, usual charming smile. “Maybe we should talk about it.”

“I don't want to talk about it. Not... not unless it's over coffee or something, and you already implied _that_ wasn't going to happen.”

“I can make you coffee right now.”

“That's not what I meant, and you know it.”

Hannibal's hands left Will's shoulder. “I wish I could be of more comfort to you” he said. “Please trust me when I say–

“It's nothing to do with me. Is that what you're going to say? Because I think me being unstable and totally undatable _has_ something to do with me.”

“I don't mind your... instability” Hannibal said slowly, as if pondering. “I mind that you are my patient.”

“But I'm not!” Graham exclaimed in irritation. “I'm not, it's just an excuse, and you won't admit it!”

“You are my patient, William” Hannibal replied patiently. “I'm afraid this kind of relationship would jeopardise the efforts we have put into your therapy so far.”

“It's already in jeopardy” Graham pointed out. “Do you realise I spend more of our appointments imagining you in sexy panties than introspecting?”

Hannibal's eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Well yeah, you are totally attractive, if no-one had told you” Graham mumbled, frowning. He was saying the most embarrassing stuff and didn't even care. “I'm not even asking for that much,” he added, grumbling. “Just a date. Like, one date. Going out. Drinking coffee. Or having dinner in whatever fancy place you'd like. I mean, it's not like signing some sort of must-date-again contract; it's just getting together, out of work, and having a good time. We don't have to do it again if we don't have a good time. It's like... just give me a chance, will you? I need to... I'm tired of being only seen as broken all the time.”

“You are not broken” Hannibal answered gently.

“But you won't date me.”

“It has nothing to do with who you are, and everything to do with me.”

Graham rolled his eyes up. “I'd never thought I'd actually hear the Hannibal version of 'it's not you, it's me'!” he cringed.

“But it is” Hannibal replied softly. “See, I have never...”

“It's fine. It's very... really fine. Alright, got to dash.” Will said while grabbing his jacket and going for the door. “It's been a pleasure, really. See you next time. Maybe.”

“Will.”

“Yeah. Right. Goodbye to you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next and last chapter will be up on Wednesday.


	3. The Frilly Frisky Panties Of Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Will isn’t as non-datable as he thought he was.

  


The phone buzzed up near Will's arm, glowing blue in the dark.

Will looked at it tiredly, too worn up to raise a hand, not even to sip at his half empty glass of whisky.

The caller's ID showed Hannibal's name.

The phone stopped buzzing after a time, but a little 'ping!' announced a text message.

Graham sighed, then rubbed his head with the heel of his hands.

Just a text; he could totally pretend he had ignored it.

“ _Can I bring my own brew to your place?_ ”

What, coffee? Tea? That damn doctor wanted to pay him a courtesy laugh-at-your-rejected-face visit and furthermore insulted his –granted, disgusting– own brand of coffee? What a Tea-bag.

“Get lost” he mumbled, taking the phone to type exactly those words.

Then he erased them and wrote “ _My coffee isn't that bad and no, I don't want to see you.”_

“ _I do”_ came in back as an answer. “ _If you let me._ ”

Graham felt a sharp pang of pain pull at his heart. Stupid therapist who wanted to see him.

 _He_ wanted to see him.

He also wanted to kiss him senseless and crumple his shirt or that thing called skin that goes under the shirt, which was not going to happen.

Unless he invited him into his home and managed to get him drunk on cheap whisky.

 _Or_ , he could build a android version of Hannibal with boat motor parts and program it to only answer “Yes Will”, and “You're doing well”. Maybe also the occasional “William.” And humming. Drawing sharp pencil portraits of him.

Or maybe he could stick Hannibal _into_ an android suit and have everyone believe that he's actually a robot while he'd actually be his cuddle paddle. Easier.

Graham took a sip of whisky and smiled. Yep, that would be a goood life.

Just for fun, he took his cell phone and typed it in: “ _If you really want to come to my house, you'll have to get very drunk and let me sex you up_.”

So easy to send this kind of text by mistake. Wouldn't that be... embarrassing.

“Oooh” Will said while hovering his finger over the send button. “Look at that, I'm taking risks, taking a big risk there, do we like to take risks Mr Graham? Yes we do...”

His doorbell rang and he almost dropped the cell phone.

He put the thing on his armchair and went for the door, grumbling about late night people on his doorstep.

“Good evening Will.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Hannibal looked slightly shocked at that. “I wanted to see you” he answered nonetheless.

Graham sighed and opened the door wide, inviting him in.

“I'm sorry” he said. “I know I'm not handling this well. Please, come in.”

“Thank you” Hannibal said, and he went pass Will, smelling like refined aftershave and someone Will would love to shag. “I truly wish we would discuss this.”

“I'm not sure there is much discussing to do” Will answered. “I dig my therapist. My therapist thinks it's unprofessional to reciprocate. Here. Discussion's over. Do you want some of my awful coffee?”

Hannibal smiled, almost shyly. “I would like that.”

Graham bit his lower lip. “Again, I'm sorry I've been difficult. I'm pretty sure that's not how you'd envision dating at all anyway. I swear I can be more... tactful. Well, I'll... give it a try.”

Hannibal shook his head lightly. “I don't mind your... being you, Will” he answered. “I would just want you to know that I have never done... this. Dating.”

Graham startled.

“I beg your pardon?” he stammered, convinced he had misheard.

“I have never been in a truly committed relationship” Hannibal answered tranquilly. “I have... met people, but never for long.”

Will took a breath in and almost choked on it. “R-really?” he said, stupefied. “I mean, you look like the kind of person who'd have a embarrassingly long history of being courted.”

“I have” Hannibal answered earnestly. “But I never felt the need, or desire, to explore the matter.”

Will suddenly understood what Hannibal had been trying to tell him earlier.

“Alright” he whispered, more to himself than to Hannibal. “Please, take a seat.”

He switched on the lights and looked for half-decent mugs to drink their coffee in –thankfully, Hannibal had actually brought his own set, along his own coffee, that he offered only when Will glanced towards him with embarrassment.

Graham suddenly took measure of the gap that stood between them. Hannibal was such a meticulous, slightly compulsive person, and so much older –probably very attached to his routine and thoroughly thought-through habits.

Will was... well. Chaotic.

“I'm... sorry” he apologised when they were both sat in front of their warm, fantastically aromatic cups of coffee. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or to upset you. I am... aware I acted like a petulant teenager earlier on. I shouldn't have imposed myself on you like that.”

“I am not angry at you” Hannibal answered quietly, looking at Will with curious, unreadable eyes. “You don't have to apologise.”

Graham sighed. “I just wanted... to connect with someone, I guess” he added. “And I thought we had that. I think we do, have that. The connection.”

Hannibal didn't answer, but Will saw that little involuntary nod of his.

“Anyway, I... really like you, as a person. And I know our relationship was not... heading that way, really, which is why I wanted to try and get it a nudge. But I... came out a little strong, I realise.”

“You did surprise me” Hannibal answered. “Though I have to confess, I had noticed you nurtured a certain interest in me. Only I mistook it for something purely sexual in nature.”

Graham thanked the Gods that he'd finished swallowing right before this sentence.

“That's... err. That must have been disturbing” Graham offered, for lack of a better reaction.

“You are not the first of my patients to react this way” Hannibal simply declared while taking a sip out his mug.

 _Patient_.

“Is that how you're going to act?” Graham replied, sitting back in his chair. “Reminding me I'm a patient, and that this is just... me, being obnoxious?”

“I don't find you obnoxious.”

“What do you find me, then?”

Hannibal put his cup back on the counter, pondering. “Interesting” he finally answered.

“Good... interesting, or _bad_ interesting? Worth a friendship or worth an psychology essay?”

“Both” Hannibal smiled, and Graham's mind hesitated between slapping him and kissing him.

“Maybe more” Hannibal added in a softer tone.

Graham startled. “More?”

“You had me thinking” Hannibal said. “About... relationships. I never considered maintaining one before, because I'd never found... connection. But now, I think I could.”

Graham felt his throat dry out. “Are you... are you saying...”

Hannibal took a sip from his cup. “You said coffee, spending time together and having a good time. Are you having a pleasant time, Will?”

 _Not until now I wasn't_.

“Yes. I mean now, yes. God!” He couldn't help a stupid grin swallowing up his face, which Hannibal mirrored in his own, more subtle way, his eyes creasing.

Graham felt his heart miss a beat and jumped on his feet. “Sugar. Sugar?” he said. “I think we're missing some. I'll be back in just a second.”

Hannibal glanced at his cupboard, which must have been but two steps away from them. But he smiled courteously and said nothing. Will saw him discreetly check on his cell phone while he was looking for the sugar (which was actually on the table beside their cups); it was probably anti-etiquette to watch one's phone while talking to someone.

“Okay, so the sugar's actually already on the table” Will said, feeling like a fool. “What about milk?”

“Also on the table” Hannibal uttered, his face oddly flushed. Graham frowned.

“Bad news?”

Hannibal pondered. “You, err. Were not planning on sending me this last text message, were you?”

“What text mess– oh.” He blushed. “No. Sorry. No. I mean... No! I, err. Am not planning on getting you drunk either. If that helps.”

Hannibal avoided his eyes.

 _Hannibal_. Avoiding. _HIS_. Eyes.

“That text meant nothing” Graham assured. “You're a therapist. You know stupid things go through one's head all the time. Or phones.”

“I do” Hannibal answered on a low voice. “I... would just like to point out that I am more of an... old-fashioned person, if that is the term.”

“No sex on the first date?” Will anxiously chuckled. “I mean... No jokes, no joking, okay, sorry.”

Hannibal was giving him an odd look.

“No sex on the hundredth date either?” Will tentatively asked. When he was nervous, the no-jokes rules was kinda hard to maintain. Looking at Hannibal's face, he couldn't help blurting out: “No sex... at all?”

“Maybe we could start with coffee” Hannibal suggested.

“Coffee's good.”

Hannibal was probably going to add to that, but bit his tongue.

“Yours is, anyway” Will complied. He pondered for a second, then gently took Hannibal's hand in his. “Listen. Please. I'm not exactly good at relationships. But I want to try this. And if possible, do it right. So we'll take it as slowly as necessary.”

Hannibal looked at him attentively, his deep, maroon eyes scrutinising Will's face with concentration.

“Or, you know. I could kiss you,” Will whispered.

Hannibal's eyelashes fluttered down for a second. “Perhaps” he answered in a cautious tone.

“I'll be good” Will promised, gently pushing his lips against the other's.

Empathy was actually useful in such a case, and he made sure to make full use of his own personal reserve to give Hannibal the perfect amount of sweet-though-not-bland, firm-though-not pushy, and just-the-right-dose-of-tender kiss.

He knew he'd succeeded when they pulled apart and he noticed Hannibal's eyelids had dropped heavily on his eyes while the man's lips stayed slightly opened. Ready for another kiss.

 _Which I can arrange_ , Will thought while leaning in to give him just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will have a sequel (« Framed »), that I’ll start publishing on Friday.
> 
> Thank you for reading! (and faving and commenting, of course).


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